


Only the Truth Can Set You Free

by Lovelyziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Choreographer Liam Payne, Double Life, M/M, Manager Louis Tomlinson, Niall and Harry are only in this for like two seconds for comedic effect, Singer Zayn Malik, also forgive the title, and also I’m just Bad At Titles (tm), and also one kinda raunchy dance scene, but it’s still kinda mild, i was listening to a lot of Blue Öyster Cult while writing this, pls forgive me I do love them a lot, this is rated teen bc I have a terrible habit of putting so many cuss words in my fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29507289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelyziam/pseuds/Lovelyziam
Summary: “So, you have a bratty, anti-dance pop star on your hands, who manages to scare off professional choreographers two weeks before his fucking tour starts, and you though ‘hey, you know who would really like to not only come up with a routine, but also train said bratty pop starin practically no time?Liam would!’” It was moments like these that Liam seriously started considering drinking for sport. Louis made him want to turn into a raging alcoholic. Maybe then he wouldn’t have toconstantly fight the urge to strangle him.Louis, the absolute asshole that he was, just gave Liam a wide, bright smile and said, “You got it, mate.”Actually, he was done fighting it. Liamwasgoing to strangle him. Slowly.“Absolutely not.”Louis immediately pouted, sticking his bottom lip out as he widened his eyes. “Come on, Liam. There’s no one else I would even think to trust to get this accomplished!” Louis moved forward, entering Liam’s space enough to brace his hand on Liam’s shoulders. “Plus, if there’s anyone who can get Zayn to be jazzed about dancing, it’s my dear old friend Leeroy, yeah?”
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 24
Kudos: 47





	Only the Truth Can Set You Free

**Author's Note:**

> This is my birthday gift to [Mara](https://icarusinterlude.tumblr.com), who asked me for this fic so long ago that I’m ashamed to admit jusy how much time that is. Ily bb please forgive me. Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! [Go tell Mara happy birthday please!](https://icarusinterlude.tumblr.com/ask)

Liam heaved out a long sigh, slamming his locker shut and effectively sealing off his work persona. He was tired, a bit sore, and more than ready to go home and fall face first into bed after a long day of training thankless and ungracious pop stars how to dance.

Choreography has  _ always _ been Liam’s passion, always. All the schooling and lessons and sheer amount of routines he’d had to come up with to prove himself, to prove this was where he was meant to be had been worth it. It really had, and he was so thankful to not only be doing what he loved but working with some of the biggest names in music at the moment. It was great, really, really great.

It was just…exhausting. While he was still taking classes, one of his instructors had brought up the topic of taking on a persona as a choreographer: becoming a different person to help separate your everyday hang-ups and just le2t yourself get lost in the movements that come with dancing.

Liam was quite sure she hadn’t meant for them to go and develop a full-fledged alter ego, but, well, Liam was rather fond of the idea and he took it and ran. Hence, Leeroy was born and at this point it was too late to turn around.

Liam didn’t regret Leeroy, per se—it was nice to be able to separate himself from his work, especially when it helped him to avoid some of the more  _ unpleasant _ celebrities—but the guy was  _ exhausting _ . Liam had thought creating a persona with an overabundance of positivity and enthusiasm would help instill the same spirit in those he created routines for, but  _ boy _ had he been wrong. If anything, it inspired people to be even  _ more _ spiteful; like it was suddenly their new goal to take his enthusiasm down peg by peg with negative attitudes and nasty comments.

So, like Liam said, exhausting. It was nice to shut Leeroy away at the end of the day, sealing him off and giving Liam a temporary break. It was cathartic; a symbol that he didn’t have to deal with any more of his  _ coworkers _ for at least a bit.

Louis, though, Louis had no respect for Liam’s process, no respect for Liam’s  _ need _ to stop thinking about his fucking job when the costume came off.

Louis was an asshole who trapped Liam in the changing rooms  _ after _ Liam had mentally clocked out.

“Liam, my dear boy. How were rehearsals today?” Louis’ voice was eerily sweet, and Liam immediately felt his hackles rise. Whatever was about to come out of Louis’ mouth, Liam was sure to hate it.

“They were fine,” Liam said, his tone tight and curt. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, he was in the mood for his  _ bed _ . And maybe a stiff drink.

“Good, good. Say, I need a favor,” Louis continued, either not noticing or completely ignoring Liam’s dismissive tone.

Make that a  _ very _ stiff drink.

“What, Louis?” Liam was aware his voice was a barely concealed growl, but he wanted to  _ leave _ . He wanted Louis to shut up and get out of the way so he could just  _ go home _ . He was more than a little frustrated.

Louis, never one to back down in the face of danger, continued. “I have this client—” yeah, Liam _ was _ regretting this. Louis’ clients tended to be  _ bratty pop stars _ who ran their other agents off with their mean comments and resistance to literally everything. They all fell into Louis’ lap because he was the only one who could deal with their bullshit. And lucky for Liam, he was the bastard’s best friend, and Louis often ended up asking Liam to work with them when no one else would.

“—and he hasn’t had much luck working with other choreographers.” Louis waved a dismissive hand, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like this client hadn’t been the one who likely chased his last choreographer away. “His tour starts in two weeks, and—”

“You’re fucking kidding me, Louis,” Liam cut in, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. “Two weeks? You expect me to get some bratty, unwilling popstar ready for a fucking  _ tour _ in  _ two weeks _ ?” Liam’s voice was practically a squeak by the end, disbelief dripping off every word.

Louis made a disgruntled noise, rolling his eyes at Liam’s interruption.

“Zayn isn’t  _ bratty _ , Liam.” Louis paused for a minute, obviously rethinking his previous statement. “Well, he’s not  _ that _ bratty. He just…isn’t a fan of dancing. Like…at all.” Louis gave Liam an encouraging smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

Liam had to try very, very hard to bite back his yell when really all he wanted to do was just fucking  _ scream _ . Instead, he took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes in an attempt to compose himself.

“So, you have a bratty, anti-dance pop star on your hands, whose manages to scare off professional choreographers  _ two weeks _ before his fucking tour starts, and you though ‘hey, you know who would really like to not only come up with a routine, but also train said bratty pop star  _ in practically no time _ ? Liam would!’” It was moments like these that Liam was thankful looks couldn’t kill, because, as it was, he was already burning a hole through Louis.

Louis, the absolute asshole that he was, just gave Liam a wide, bright smile and said, “You got it, mate.”

Liam was going to strangle him. Slowly.

“Absolutely not.”

Louis immediately pouted, sticking his bottom lip out as he widened his eyes. “Come on, Liam. There’s no one else I would even think to trust to get this accomplished!” Louis moved forward, entering Liam’s space enough to brace his hand on Liam’s shoulders. “Plus, if there’s anyone who can get Zayn to be jazzed about dancing, it’s my dear old friend Leeroy, yeah?”

Liam only glared in response, barely resisting the urge to throw Louis’ hands off of him and storm out of the room. Louis must have  _ finally _ taken notice of Liam’s bad mood and complete reluctance to take on his client because his expression turned more serious, more genuine when he spoke his next words.

“Liam, I know working with some of my clients isn’t your favorite thing, given their track record and all, but I wouldn’t even be asking you if I had another choice. Zayn needs some serious direction and motivation, and there’s absolutely no one I trust more than you to get him there in the limited amount of time we have.” Liam felt his resolve crumbling—Louis was so scarcely this serious, which only made the urgency of his current situation that much more apparent. And then he went and tacked on a small, but still hopeful, “Please, Liam,” and Liam knew he would cave.

Liam let the silence stretch, thinking up the best plan of action. He was going to have to work with this kid constantly for the next two weeks if he wanted to not only teach him a new routine, but get him working well with his backup dancers. Having them learn the routine was going to be easy—they were professionals—but Liam knew from experience that reluctant pop stars often make or break the show.

“Fine,” Liam finally bit out. Louis squealed in front of him, jumping up and down with his hands still planted on Liam’s shoulders. He dragged Liam forward, into a bouncy hug. Liam felt a laugh slip past his lips, some of the tension from the day leaving him in the face of Louis’ excitement.

“BUT!” Liam cut into Louis’ excitement. “But there are some conditions!” Louis pulled away, putting on a semi-serious face as he looked at Liam. It was more of a manic grin than anything serious, but Liam thought it was close enough.

“Absolutely, you name it.”

“He has to be here first thing tomorrow morning,” Liam said. “He shows up at 8 o’clock sharp, or I call the whole thing off.” Louis nodded, opening his mouth to agree. Liam wasn’t done yet, though, and he cut him off before he could start talking. “You also have to make sure he understands we’ll be working practically around the clock. It’s going to be easy enough to get his dancers prepared, but it’s going to take a lot of work to get him to be where he needs to be at in just two weeks.”

Louis’ head practically bounced up and down in his eagerness to appease Liam’s requests. “Absolutely! That isn’t a problem at all! Zayn and his dancers will be here bright and early to be shaped by your beautiful hands, Liam. Thank you!” Louis threw himself at Liam again, smacking a loud and wet kiss to his cheek before bounding out of the room, throwing a thrilled, “you’re a fucking Godsend, Liam James Payne,” over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner.

Liam was already regretting this.

***

At 7:30 the next morning, Liam was staring into his locker, his gaze focused on the nutty outfit and messy blonde wig that made up his work persona. He only had a half an hour to brace himself for what was going to be a long, long two weeks.

Liam was pretty sure he had never contemplated moving away and changing his name as much as he did last night while trying to figure out a routine. Instead of face planting in his bed like he has so wanted to do, he spent most of the night going over the routines of this Zayn guy’s last  _ three _ choreographers. Yes,  _ three _ . Louis had oh-so-helpfully left that detail out last night while he was cornering Liam.

It only made dread sink deeper into Liam’s gut because if Louis had tried out three choreographers before he finally turned to Liam, that meant this guy was a  _ nightmare _ .

Slowly, Liam began pulling what was essentially his uniform from his locker, redressing even as he thought about running away again.

Really, it would be  _ so _ much easier.

At 7:58, Liam was walking out of the changing rooms, staring down the wide, polished floors of the empty studio. In two minutes, the doors were supposed to swing open, revealing his charge for the next two weeks.

At 8, Liam was staring down the still closed doors, his pulse jumping in erratic beats beneath his skin.

At  _ just _ before 8:01, the studio doors came blasting open, revealing a very persistent Louis, and a man who looked equal parts angry and embarrassed. Liam would place money on that being Zayn.

“Good morning, my dear Leeroy!” Louis practically shouted as they made their way across the floor. “As promised, our token musician is here! The other dancers are gathered outside, but I figured it would be better if the two of you met first.” Liam felt his over-enthusiastic smile slipping onto his features, the flamboyant personality he’d adopted bubbling to the surface.

“Hello, hello!” Liam greeted, waving his hand rapidly as he bounded up to them. “I’m Leeroy, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Zayn’s eyes widened as Liam approached, his distaste for Liam crossing his features for a second before he managed to school his expression into a disapproving scowl.

_ Awesome _ , Liam thought. They hadn’t even said a handful of words to each other and Zayn was already going to be difficult. Perfect.

“Is this a fucking prank?” Were the first words out of Zayn’s mouth. It took all of Liam’s willpower to not let the smile slip from his face. He wasn’t in his full Leeroy mindset yet, it was still too early, and he was still very much  _ Liam _ at the moment, so brushing off the harshness of Zayn’s words was a lot more difficult than they normally would be.

Still, this was his  _ job _ and part of the reason he’d adopted Leeroy in the first place was to prevent him from lashing out at rude celebrities. Fake it ‘til you make it, and all that.

Liam watched as Louis opened his mouth, an angry scowl on his face that only meant he was about to lay into this Zayn guy. Liam cut him off before Louis could berate him.

“If that’s what gets you in the dancing spirit, you can absolutely call this whatever you want!” Liam clapped his hands together a couple of times, bouncing around to circle the boys standing in front of him. Zayn certainly  _ looked _ like he could dance, despite his bratty attitude. That was okay, Liam had dealt with far worse than him. Louis had a reputation for taking on difficult stars, but Liam knew he wouldn’t tolerate working with someone who was just plain cruel.

“Now, tell me,” Liam began. “What are some of your favorite moves? What kind of dance do you like best?” There was still time to adjust the routine based on Zayn’s likes and dislikes; he had worked in a few areas to improve or change when he came up with the routine last night. It was always easier, and so much more fun, to work in whatever his clients wanted or liked. It made their enthusiasm for learning the routine that much more apparent.

“I don’t like dancing at all,” Zayn said, his face formed in a grimace. “It’s lame, and I don’t care what Louis fucking says, I’m not gonna do it. I’m a singer, my job is to sing, not fucking  _ dance _ .” Zayn said the word dance like it was acidic in his mouth, and Liam just barely resisted the urge to laugh.

Out of all the things this guy could have  _ that much _ disdain for, it had to be dancing? Really, weren’t there other things to focus that much hatred on?

“Hmm,” Liam hummed, his gaze finally coming up to meet Zayn’s. “And why is it that you hate dancing so much?”

Zayn looked away, turning his glare to one of the studio walls. If Liam didn’t know better, he’d almost say Zayn was  _ blushing. _

“’Cause it’s dumb,” Zayn said. He was still resolutely refusing to meet Liam’s gaze.

“So you said,” Liam murmured, considering Zayn in a new light now. Zayn was holding himself ridged, his posture stiff and uncomfortable, and suddenly it clicked for Liam.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” Liam asked. Zayn’s eyes swung up to meet Liam’s, his eyes wide and a rebuttal was clearly on the tip of his tongue.

“I-I,” Zayn stuttered. “I don’t, that is absolutely  _ not _ —I’m not  _ embarrassed. _ ”

Liam only smirked. “No, no. Of course not. The thought of dancing doesn’t scare you at  _ all. _ It’s just you’re too cool for it, huh?” Liam was aware he was slipping further and further away from Leeroy’s overly cheerful attitude and more into his regular snark, but he couldn’t help it. It was going to be difficult to convince Zayn to dance based on enthusiasm alone. Other clients sure, he could wear them down until they danced just to get Liam to stop annoying them. Liam could immediately tell Zayn was different, though. Zayn wouldn’t be worn down, but Liam was positive he’d be able to get Zayn to dance if he challenged him somehow.

Liam advanced on Zayn, cocking his head as he stepped into his space. “It’s not at all that you’re afraid of making a fool of yourself, huh?”

Zayn’s gaze hardened, glaring at Liam just like Liam had thought he would. “I’m not afraid,” Zayn ground out through gritted teeth.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Then prove it, show me what you got today. Work with me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Liam could see Louis grinning a Cheshire cat grin. Liam found it hard not to match that smile—he had Zayn cornered and him and Louis both knew it.

Zayn considered him for another second before he finally muttered out, “Fine, let's do this then,” and stomped off towards the center of the room.

Liam let a grin slip over his lips as he looked to Louis, whose eyes were shining with a mix of fondness and admiration. He walked over to Liam, his grin still wide across his face.

“I don’t know how you do it, but I’m impressed every time I see you convince another one of these brats to dance.” Louis reached forward, wrapping Liam up in a hug. “You really are the best in the business, Liam,” Louis whispered before pulling away.

Liam winked in response, watching as Louis bounded towards the door.

“Thanks, Leeroy! You really are the best! I’ll send the other dancers in!” And with that Louis disappeared behind the studio doors. Liam turned to look at Zayn, still sulking in the middle of the room.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

***

By quitting time, Liam was  _ exhausted _ . Zayn’s backup dancers were great—they took to Liam’s routine like a fish to water and Liam was impressed. He wasn’t sure where Louis had found those people, but he’d done a fantastic job.

Zayn, on the other hand, Zayn was…well, Liam didn’t want to say  _ tragic _ , but the thought had certainly crossed his mind.

It just, Zayn didn’t know how to  _ relax _ . The entire time Liam was trying to walk him through his moves, Zayn had held himself stiff and awkward and then tried to dance that way. It was practically impossible to do any kind of dance when you were that robotic, and Liam wasn’t sure how to get Zayn to just relax.

If Liam didn’t find a way to get Zayn to just let loose and actually  _ listen  _ to his instructions, then this tour was doomed. Well, at least the dancing portion of it was, but Liam was pretty sure they could do the tour without synchronized dancing. Liam was half tempted to bring the thought up to Louis, based on today’s rehearsal.

Liam let out an exhausted sigh as headed out of the changing rooms, brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead. God, these two weeks could not be over fast enough.

He was so lost in his own head, consumed by thoughts of the disastrous next two weeks, that Liam didn’t realize he was about to walk into someone until he smacked into something decidedly solid.

“Fuck,” he muttered, reaching forward to steady the person he had almost knocked over. “’M so sorry, wasn’t paying attention to where I was—” Liam cut himself off, realizing who he had just ran into. Zayn looked up at him with wide eyes, a flirty smile soon slipping over his lips as he looked Liam over.

“Well, hello there, handsome,” Zayn murmured, his eyes going syrupy soft, and Liam was hit with a wall of confusion. This was the same Zayn who had been shooting him glares and all-around making Liam’s life a living hell not twenty minutes ago, and now he was  _ flirting  _ with Liam? What?

“Um, hi?” Liam murmured, still trying to work out why Zayn had suddenly become so flirty.

“Say,” Zayn practically purred, “You come here often?”

Liam felt a laugh bubble up his throat at the obvious line, but he couldn’t be sure if it sounded more delirious than humorous.

“I-I, yes. I’m here…a lot,” Liam finished lamely. He considered Zayn for another second before saying, “You know we’ve met before, right?” Because they  _ literally _ just came from the same rehearsals. Rehearsals in which Liam had just led.

Zayn’s smile twitched, like he had to force himself to keep it in place. “No, no,” he said, giving Liam a definite once over. “I think I’d definitely remember someone with eyes like that.” He punctuated his statement with a wink, and Liam felt that delirious laugh bubble up again, but this time he forced it down.

Then it hit Liam: he wasn’t wearing his wig or the baggy clothes that came with being Leeroy. He was just Liam at the moment, and it must have been just enough of a different look that Zayn didn’t recognize him.

Still, Zayn had said he’d recognize Liam’s  _ eyes _ , and, considering his outfit did nothing to mask his eyes, it was very obvious Zayn’s flirting was meant for one thing and one thing only: a quick roll in the sheets with a bendy dancer that he could forget about after, especially since they both knew Zayn had no intention of sticking this out despite his agent’s insistence.

Unfortunately for Zayn, Liam had sworn off popstars a  _ long _ time ago—plus, sleeping with clients was bad form and almost always ended in disaster.

Liam took a step forward, eliminating all but a few inches between himself and Zayn. “You like my eyes, hmm?” Liam muttered, dropping his voice a couple octaves and looking up at Zayn through lowered lashes. Liam watched in almost fascination as Zayn leaned forward, his breath hitching as he fell into Liam’s orbit. Liam tried to keep the sultry look on his face—tried not to let a laugh slip out as Zayn bit his bottom lip and gazed at Liam with hooded eyes, obviously thinking he was about to get what he wanted.

“Well, me, too,” Liam continued. “I always have found myself rather lucky that my eyes can spot a bullshit pickup line from a mile away, yeah?” With that Liam stepped back, a smirk stealing over his lips as he watched Zayn’s dazed face.

“W-what?” Zayn asked, and Liam couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about the slightly betrayed look on Zayn’s face.

Liam hitched his gym bag higher on his shoulder before sliding past him, towards the exit of the studio. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Liam called over his shoulder. “I’m sure those lines are much more successful on people who are impressed with your popstar status.” He met Zayn’s eyes, pausing for a moment to shoot him a wink before disappearing behind the heavy exit doors.

***

If possible, the next day Zayn was even  _ grumpier _ . He barely said three words to Liam, and the three he  _ did  _ say were normally some combination of ‘no,’ ‘fuck,’ and ‘you,’ normally in that order. Needless to say, Liam was even  _ more _ frustrated, and regretting that entire conversation with Louis more than ever.

Liam bit back a growl as Zayn,  _ once again _ , bumped into one of his backup dancers. Liam couldn’t prove anything, but he was entirely sure Zayn was doing it on purpose at this point.

“Zayn, sweetie,” Liam called out, trying  _ so _ hard to keep his voice light and airy, instead of letting his frustration leak in. It’s just, he had  _ never _ had a client as difficult as Zayn, and considering it was only the second day of rehearsals, that didn’t bode well for Liam. “Do you want me to go over your steps with you again?” Liam gave an exaggerated smile, praying it came off more as ‘pleasant and encouraging’ than ‘frustrated and slightly deranged.’ “I’d be more than happy to work out anything that might be confusing you!”

Liam already knew what was coming before Zayn ever even opened his mouth.

“No, fuck you.” Zayn crossed his arms over his chest, looking more like a petulant child than a record breaking artist.

“You sure?” Liam bit out through clenched teeth, his voice slightly too high and much too squeaky. “Because it would certainly be my pleasure to assist you in any way I can.”

“Yeah?” Zayn retorted. “Then how ‘bout you blow me, huh?”

Liam lifted one of his eyebrows, a smirk that was decidedly more Liam than Leeroy stealing over his lips. “Well, that certainly is  _ one _ way of getting you to loosen up, isn’t it?”

Zayn’s eyes widened, his arms dropping to hang limply at his sides. “W-what?”

Liam let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping as he forced a bright smile onto his face—and his mind away from Zayn’s dick, Jesus. “You’re too tense, Zayn. You need to loosen up, or else you’re never going to feel comfortable with your routine.” Liam could see some retort building on the tip of Zayn’s tongue, so he quickly cut him off, clapping his hands and bouncing back towards the front of the room. “All right, back to the beginning everyone! Let’s start from the top, shall we?”

Zayn didn’t stop glaring at Liam for the rest of the rehearsal. Liam was  _ so _ making Louis take him out for drinks tonight to make up for this shit.

***

“Liam!” Harry crowed the minute Liam threw himself into the booth next to him. “You made it!”

Liam huffed as he settled in next to Harry, rolling his eyes before he turned to face him. “There was no way in hell that I was going to miss racking up a tab on Louis’ dime after my week from hell—courtesy of him and his bratty client, by the way.”

Harry laughed next to him, leaning over to bump his shoulder to Liam’s. “Yeah, I had heard rumors of the popstar from hell. I assume they’re true, then?”

Liam let out an inelegant snort, reaching in front of Harry to snag his drink. “Unfortunately, they are.”

Harry directed a wide grin Liam’s way, opening his mouth to no doubt demand details, before Louis strolled up to the table, a smile to match Harry’ spread across his lips.

“Well, isn’t this quaint, fellas?” Louis intoned, shoving himself into the booth next to Liam—which was just typical. There was a whole, unoccupied bench right across from Liam and Harry, but naturally Louis chose to cram himself into the smallest spot available.

“It  _ was _ ,” Harry deadpanned. Louis flicked a stray straw wrapper at him in response, only missing by about three feet. Harry, ever the mature adult, stuck his tongue out at Louis.

“Children,” Liam scolded as he rolled his eyes. Really, he didn’t need to play referee to these two’s childish instincts all night, not when the whole purpose of coming out tonight was to help Liam blow off steam after a long few days of rehearsal.

“Sorry, Li,” Harry murmured, tucking his head against Liam’s shoulder. Liam sighed, reaching up to pat along his curls before turning to face Louis. The look on his face immediately put Liam on edge.

“I am also sorry,” Louis said, clearing his throat. “But, um, for a different reason.”

Liam narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to question what Louis was talking about, but then he spotted a familiar face in the crowd behind Louis and suddenly the apology made  _ so much sense. _

“Louis,” Liam growled, turning his narrow-eyed stare onto him. “What the fuck?”

“Look, I’m sorry! It’s just…I mentioned meeting up with friends for a drink tonight in front of Niall, and he got all excited!” Louis’ eyes turned pleading. “You’ve met Niall, you know how he gets when he gets excited. You expected me to say  _ no _ when he asked if he could tag along?”

“But that’s not  _ just Niall, _ Louis.”

The guilty look was back in Louis’ eyes. “Yeah, uh, about that. So, apparently Niall and Zayn are friends. Like,  _ really _ good friends. So when Niall mentioned bringing him along I wasn’t going to say  _ no. _ ”

“ _ Louis _ ,” Liam growled again, but didn’t get the chance to say anything else before Niall was bounding up to the table, Zayn in tow behind him.

“Hey, lads! How’s it goin’?” Niall beamed at them as he took the wall seat in the booth opposite to them, Zayn sliding in right behind him. Liam could feel Zayn’s gaze on him, could practically imagine the little furrow in his brow, but Liam very determinedly stared right at his beer bottle, his face as neutral as he could manage.

“Fantastic!” Harry said, his enthusiasm at seeing the blonde obvious. “We’re doing really good, thank you for asking.”

Niall returned Harry’s grin, then gestured to the table. “Shall I order another round?”

“Absolutely!” Harry answered, turning a mischievous grin on Louis. “Louis is buying!”

“Hey!” Louis shouted, and for a moment the table dissolved into chaos as Harry and Louis shouted at each other, and Niall cackled in the background. Eventually, the drink orders were placed, and the table calmed once again.

Liam could still feel Zayn’s stare on him. Liam was also still resolutely refusing to meet that stare.

“So, Zayn, right?” Harry began. Zayn nodded, murmuring a quiet  _ yeah _ . Liam watched as Harry’s grin turned into that false innocent one that only spells trouble. “Louis told us you started dance rehearsals recently?” Liam squeezed his eyes shut as Louis choked on his drink next to him. Fucking  _ Harry _ .

“Uhh, yeah? T-that’s right,” Zayn muttered, his gaze sweeping down to the table. Liam took a second to observe him, to watch the shadows dance across his features while he was unaware of Liam’s own stare.

“How’s that going?” Harry finished. This time it was Niall who snorted, turning an amused grin on Zayn. Zayn returned it with a scowl.

“They’re going fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Niall asked. “Is that why you bitch to me about it every chance you get?” Niall punctuated his statement with an eyeroll, directing his attention to Harry and Liam. “It’s always ‘stupid rehearsals this’ and ‘dumb choreographer tha—‘” But Niall cut himself off, his wide eyes shooting over to Liam in concern. Aside from Louis and Harry, Niall was the only other person who knew Liam moonlighted as Leeroy, and Niall had actually found out by accident. “Uh, um, I mean—”

“No, it’s fine, Ni,” Liam murmured, his gaze finally meeting Zayn’s head on. Liam felt a small smirk steal over his lips. Sure, he had known that Zayn wasn’t a big fan of him—well, Leeroy, at least—but this gave him an opportunity to actually  _ do  _ something about Zayn’s obvious distaste for anything involving dance. There was only so much he could do as Leeroy, as someone being  _ paid _ to be polite and keep their mouth shut. Here, however, Liam wasn’t being paid shit and he sure as hell didn’t have to remain professional. “So, Zayn, not a big fan of your rehearsals, huh? Any particular reason why?”

Four pairs of eyes all stared at Zayn, and Liam saw the exact moment his hackles raised.

“Because dancing is fucking stupid, that’s why,” Zayn bit out, vehemently. “Why would I willingly subject myself to something that makes me look and feel like an idiot?”

Liam heard Harry let out a small gasp beside him and saw as Louis brought a hand up to his open mouth in his peripheral. He paid them no attention, just focused all his attention on Zayn as his smirk grew a bit wider.

“So you’re saying anyone who dances looks stupid?” Liam shoved Louis out of the booth, getting to his feet before turning to Zayn again. “That every time you’re doing something that even remotely looks like dancing, you feel like an idiot?” Zayn stood up, too, obviously thrown off balance by Liam looming over him. When Zayn stood up, that put Liam close, close enough that one more step would put him and Zayn chest to chest.

Zayn gulped, his eyes darting down to Liam’s lips and his breath quickening a fraction. “I-I, um, that’s...yes. Um, for um, for the most part, yes.”

Liam felt a little thrill go down his spine at Zayn’s reaction—there was something so intoxicating about Zayn’s obvious attraction to him, it probably went to his head just a bit too much.

“Let me prove you wrong,” Liam husked, closing that last stretch of space between them, pressing his chest firmly up against Zayn’s and ducking down to whisper against his ear. “Give me a chance to show you how…unfounded your thoughts on dancing are.” Zayn shivered in front of Liam, his eyes closed when Liam pulled away to look at him.

“Okay,” Zayn breathed out, his eyes slowly slipping open to meet Liam’s. “Y-yeah, I. Yes. Okay.”

Liam grinned, reaching forward to wrap his fingers around Zayn’s wrist and tug him to the crowded dance floor. He just barely registered Louis’ wide smirk, Harry’s toothy grin, and Niall’s loud laughter as he dragged Zayn away.

There was a slow, smooth beat blasting through the speakers, and Liam’s grin only widened. It was the perfect type of song for what he had planned. The dense crowd meant there wasn’t a lot of room to move, but that’s alright, Liam’s plan didn’t include too much movement.

Once they had made their way partly into the crowd, Liam spun around to face Zayn, watching as the man’s eyes darted around from face to face, his apprehension growing by the second.

“Hey,” Liam murmured, tucking himself back into Zayn’s space. “I’ve got you, yeah? Just focus on me.” Zayn nodded at Liam’s words, his gaze narrowing in on Liam.

“Good boy,” Liam breathed, and he couldn’t help the smug grin that stole over his lips when his words made Zayn bite down on his bottom lip. Liam moved his foot forward to knock into Zayn’s own, widening his stance. “Keep your feet apart.”

Liam turned around until his back was facing Zayn, then reached behind himself to grab one of Zayn’s wrists again, tugging the man until he was pressed down the length of Liam’s back. Liam felt Zayn’s chest stutter out a breath as his free hand instinctively shot out to Liam’s hip to steady himself. Liam brought the hand still in his grasp around to his front, tucking Zayn’s fingers on his stomach, just below his navel and just above his waist line.

Liam turned his head, practically tucking his head into Zayn’s neck when he whispered, just below Zayn’s ear, “Relax, Zayn. Just let me take care of you.” Liam felt Zayn tremble before he slumped forward a bit, wrapping himself around Liam as tension slowly leaked out of him. “Good boy.”

Liam felt his smile slip back into place when those words had the same effect as last time; Zayn slipping his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down and making it a shade of pink Liam found very, very captivating. Liam let himself get lost in just  _ looking _ for a moment before he shook himself out of it, concentrating on the music and beginning to rock his hips, forcing Zayn to do the same.

Liam felt how Zayn tensed again, his chest seizing up slightly where it’s pressed against Liam’s back, and his grip tightening on Liam’s hip. Liam kept moving, though, and Zayn slowly started relaxing behind him, though his fist never let up on Liam’s hip.

Liam didn’t know how long they stayed there, Zayn wrapped around him in a throng of sweaty people, but he did notice that the more Zayn relaxed, the bolder he became. Zayn pushed himself more firmly against Liam, tucking his head in Liam’s neck to nose along his pulse point. Liam felt it spike in response, his heartbeat quickening as Zayn moved his nose up to the sensitive space behind Liam’s ear. His head tilted without Liam consciously thinking about it, allowing more access for Zayn to continue. Zayn took that as the blanket permission it was, attaching his lips—and teeth,  _ fuck _ —to the skin right over Liam’s pulse point, and Liam fucking  _ shook _ with it.

Liam spun in Zayn’s hold, his eyes drinking in Zayn’s rumbled state and his dilated pupils. “So, tell me, Zayn,” Liam murmured. “Do you feel like an idiot right now?”

Zayn let out a snort, his eyelids at half mast as he met Liam’s gaze. “I’m feeling a lot of things right now, but like an idiot isn’t one of them.”

Liam couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his lips if he tried. “Mm, so I guess dancing isn’t so bad after all, hmm?”

Zayn let out a breathy little laugh, his eyes drawn down to Liam’s lips as Liam darted his tongue out to lick along the bottom one.

“M-maybe not,” Zayn whispered.

Liam abruptly pulled away, a bright grin on his lips as Zayn’s eyes widened in confusion. “Great! Then maybe you’ll stop being such a wanker to your choreographer!” With that, Liam reached up to pat Zayn on the cheek, before winking and spinning around on his heel to head back to his and Harry’s booth.

He needed a fucking drink. And also something to will away his Goddamn hardon.

It was 20 minutes before Zayn finally made his way back to their table—plenty of time for Harry to pry all the details of his dance with Zayn from him—a deep scowl across his face and his hair in complete disarray. Liam lifted his beer to his mouth, attempting to hide his smirk behind the lip of his bottle.

Louis, on the other hand, did absolutely nothing to tamp down the smirk he directed in Zayn’s direction. Before he could say anything, Zayn cut his glare in Louis’ direction and said, “Shut the fuck up, Louis.” Before shoving himself into the seat next to Niall and proceeding to steal his beer.

“Hey!” Niall protested, but let Zayn down the rest of the contents, nonetheless. Zayn set the drink down with a harsh  _ thud _ , his eyes not moving from the rough surface of the table.

“Hey,” Harry started, his voice weirdly soothing. Zayn looked up, his eyes meeting Harry’s and his scowl softening at the concerned look on Harry’s face. Well, before Harry ruined it by finishing with, “At least now you know how frustrated your choreographer probably feels.”

Zayn’s scowl only deepened as the rest of them erupted into laughter. Sometimes Liam really, really loved Harry.

***

Liam was in a terrible mood. He was extremely exhausted, and exceptionally hungover. Needless to say, it was not a good morning for him.

Still, he was in his itchy fucking wig, his stupid leg warmers, and sitting in the middle of the gym floor doing his pointless stretched to warm up for today’s rehearsals. He was pretty sure they were going to be even more trying today. He really, really wasn’t in the mood to put up with Zayn’s petulant attitude—which Liam still didn’t get.

He understood people who didn’t like dancing; he got that if you didn’t know what you were doing that it could be embarrassing for some people. But Liam was literally teaching him the moves, he set up a routine that looked practiced and polished. Plus, the background dancers were doing most of the work! Zayn’s own dance moves were minimal and tame compared to the rest of the dancers—he couldn’t very well be running out of breath while singing.

Liam just didn’t  _ understand _ what the big deal was. Zayn would look  _ fine _ if he’d just relax and learn the goddamn routine.

Which is why when Zayn stomped into the studio—four minutes early, on top of that—and marched right up to where Liam was sitting on the floor and  _ apologized _ , well Liam was pretty sure it was just a hangover-induced hallucination. There was no way Zayn had just said he was  _ sorry _ for the shit he’s put Liam through the last few days.

Seriously,  _ what _ ?

“I  _ said _ ,” Zayn bit out, and oh. Maybe Liam had done more than just stare dumbly up at him. Maybe he’d actually asked what the fuck was going on. “That I was sorry. Someone recently pointed out to me how much of a dick I’ve been, and I’m sorry, okay? It’s not your fault dancing is stupid, even if you like…personify dancing. Or whatever. I’m just sorry, okay?”

Liam continued to stare dumbly at Zayn for all of two minutes before his brain finally kicked into gear, slowly making him aware of the uncomfortable silence the two of them were stewing in.

“U-uhm. Thanks?” Liam finally muttered, confusion still lining his every thought. If it wasn’t for the pounding headache splitting his skull open, he might still think he was sleeping--that Zayn’s genuinely apologetic attitude was all just a dream to cope with the stress of trying to teach him basic dance moves everyday. “I mean, that’s, uh, that’s really great. Of you to say. I appreciate the apology?”

Zayn gave him a strange look, and honestly, Liam couldn’t blame him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as he thought about his stumbled reply, but honestly! Liam was already having a shit day, and Zayn’s--admittedly terrible--apology had thrown him even more off kilter.

“Yeah,” Zayn said. “No problem.” He cast one more narrow-eyed look Liam’s way before finally turning on his heel and going to join the other dancers while they stretched.

It wasn’t until Zayn was halfway through his warm up that Liam realized he hadn’t put on his Leeroy persona at all during Zayn and his conversation.

Well, fuck

***

The next handful of days passed in a sort of haze for Liam. Creating Leeroy had always been a sort of escape for Liam--he got to be loud and bubbly and  _ unapologetically enthusiastic _ without having to worry about people judging him, or thinking less of him for it, or being weirded out by such an in-your-face personality.

Despite all this, though, everytime Liam shared the studio floor with Zayn, he found himself constantly reminding himself to keep up the act, to make sure he wasn’t slipping away from Leeroy and into Liam. He’d  _ never _ had an issue with it before, never even been  _ tempted _ to let a client know that there was a whole other person under the dreadful wig and bright personality. He was slowly starting to get to know Zayn--the person he was underneath his own put-upon personality his celebrity status has made him adopt.

And what made matters worse? Louis was still insistent on Liam joining the guys for drinks after rehearsals-- _ them  _ including Zayn and Liam as  _ Liam _ , not Leeroy--spouting some bullshit about how Liam would better know how to teach Zayn if he knew him both in and outside of a professional setting.

As if Liam didn’t know that was a load of bullshit.

Liam wasn’t quite sure what Louis was trying to accomplish in making him spend so much time with Zayn, but he had a guess. And, if his guess was right, he hated to admit it, but it was  _ working. _

He was falling for Zayn, in and out of the studio, and it was  _ terrifying. _

Liam’s once borderline hatred for Zayn had morphed into something soft and fond. Zayn was still an absolute dick sometimes, but it was less and less often. Now, he was more apt to tell a lame joke than deliver a harsh jab.

Now, Liam was hopelessly captivated by the crinkle of Zayn’s nose, the small giggles he always tried to smother when one of the boys inevitably did something embarrassing, the soft smiles he would send Liam’s way when Liam told a lame joke of his own.

Now, Liam was dreading Zayn’s first show for a completely different reason.

And, on top of all that, he found himself  _ wanting  _ to cross the line between professional and personal. Every time he skipped character and forcibly reminded himself to get it together, he had to remind himself exactly  _ why  _ it was so important to keep Zayn at an arm's length—why he couldn't come clean and admit that both Liam  _ and  _ Leeroy were ass over teakettle for Zayn.

It was frustrating and infuriating, and nothing drove home that point more than watching Zayn _gyrate_ _his hips while making direct eye contact._ Fuck.

Liam inhaled sharply, and Zayn sent him a pleased look. Liam could  _ feel _ how red his face was, which only served to make him blush harder. Zayn openly flirting with him as  _ Leeroy  _ was something he hadn’t seen coming, but over the last handful of days he’d been doing so.  _ Persistently.  _ It was already bad enough that he’d taken to shamelessly flirting with Liam when they went out for drinks with their mutual friends, but at least that one he had seen coming. This was...unexpected.

He shot a glance towards the clock on the far wall, subtly letting out a breath of relief when he realized rehearsals were almost over.

But, as fast as the relief came, a sense of melancholy quickly swept through Liam. This was the last time he’d probably see Zayn before his tour started, as Leeroy  _ or  _ Liam. He wasn’t ready for it to be over.

All too soon, the clock struck the top of the hour, prompting all the dancers in the room to finish their routines, slowly moving over to pack their things back into their bags.

Forcing a cheer into his voice he didn’t feel, Liam addressed the room. “That was a  _ fantastic _ rehearsal, everyone. You’ve all worked so hard, put so much effort into making sure Zayn’s tour is going to be  _ phenomenal.”  _ Liam bounced forward, closer to the group, before stopping and bouncing in place. “I’m so proud of everything everyone’s accomplished. Good luck on tour, all of you, I look forward to seeing all your hard work in action!”

The dancers all gave a short clap, before grabbing their bags and moving towards Liam for their last goodbye before moving towards the exit. They all slowly filed out, until the last ones left were him and Zayn.

Liam had no idea what to say.

Zayn, apparently, had no such problem.

“Thank you,” Zayn started as he approached Liam, a sharp gleam in his eyes. “This whole experience has really been...enlightening.”

Liam felt his eyes narrow as they focused on Zayn. He had thought they were past the subtle jabs and snarking insults. “Oh?” Liam arched an eyebrow, a witty retort of his own on the tip of his tongue before he realized that he was  _ Leeroy  _ at the moment, not Liam. Witty retorts weren’t Leeroy’s style, it was more...enough in your face enthusiasm and purposeful obliviousness.

Liam pasted on a bright smile and said, “I’m so glad! What a turn around from your first thoughts about this place. You’ve been so great!”

Zayn’s smile shifted a little at that, going soft around the edges, some of the smug humor leaving his eyes. “It, uh, it has actually, um, been quite different from what I was expecting.”

This time, Liam’s over the top grin was more genuine when he said, “I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” Zayn ducked his eyes, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. He was still gazing at the floor when he spoke again. “Look, I know I was super bratty at first, Liam, but I really have enjoyed all of this–“ Zayn gave a sweeping gesture of the room as Liam’s blood turned to ice in his veins–“and you did exactly what you said you would. You changed my mind about dancing. I guess it isn’t so bad after all.” He finally looked back up at Liam, his gaze a little sheepish. “So I just wanted to say thank you for, um, not giving up on me? And all that.”

Liam was frozen to the spot, his eyes no doubt wide and his mouth most definitely agape. He should say something, he knew that, but he couldn’t  _ think _ of anything because Zayn had just—

“Uhm, are you okay?” Zayn asked, an adorable crease between his brows as he looked at Liam. But  _ no,  _ Lim was very much  _ not  _ okay, thank you. He wasn’t okay because Zayn had just—

“You called me Liam,” was all Liam could think to say at that moment. He kept running through it over and over again, wondering  _ how  _ Zayn knew,  _ if  _ he even knew of if he was just thinking of Liam in that moment, if it was a slip of the tongue, if Louis had told him, if—

“Well, yeah,” Zayn said, that stupid, ridiculous,  _ attractive  _ smirk back in his lips. “That is your real name, right? Under that ridiculous wig and ugly leg warmers?”

“Hey!” Liam felt a pout steal over his lips, the fact that Zayn  _ knew _ momentarily forgotten. “They’re cute.”

“Liam, they're  _ neon pink.  _ They’re an atrocity.”

“Oh yeah? And who are you? The fashion police?”

A laugh lit up Zayn’s face, his nose wrinkling and his tongue poking between his teeth and Liam wanted to  _ die.  _ Fuck, but who gave him the righ to be  _ this fucking cute. _

For a moment, all they did was stare at each other, until Liam finally cracked and asked, “So, um, who told you? A-about me, I mean. Who told you about the, y’know...double identity thing?”

Zayn shot him an incredulous look. “Liam, nobody  _ had  _ to tell me.”

Liam felt his eyebrows draw together, his first run in with Zayn out of his costume flashing briefly in his mind. “What do you mean? How’d you find out?”

Zayn let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re not serious, right?” At Liam’s continued confused look, Zayn said, “oh my God, you  _ are  _ serious,” before running a hand over his face, then pointing a serious look at Liam. “Liam. You look exactly the same. Your face under that wig is the same face without it on. Literally the only difference between Liam and Leeroy is an  _ outfit.  _ And once I started spending time with you both in and out of costume, I felt like an idiot for not making the connection sooner. _ ” _

Liam just stared at Zayn for a moment, sensing there was more to the story than that.

It was only a handful of seconds before Zayn cracked and said, “okay, fine. Niall also might’ve let it slip without realizing it. Alcohol may have been involved.”

A surprised laugh burst its way out of Liam's chest, warmth flooding his veins at the shy smile on Zayn’s lips. They stared at each other for a lingering moment before Zayn’s previous words fully sank in. And, okay, Liam could understand Zayn’s point about the differences between himself and Leeroy, he could, but he liked to think the outfit wasn’t the  _ only _ change between them. They have two completely different personalities! He says as much to Zayn.

“I don’t know.” Zayn gives him a thoughtful look, a hand coming up to tap against his chin as the other one goes across his chest. “You’re both enthusiastic about the things you love—“ Liam felt a blush rise in his cheeks as he remembered what Zayn was no doubt talking about, a night when Liam had gotten  _ absolutely  _ smashed and went on a twenty minute rant about cereal, of all things, “—you're both super caring, and you’re both undeniably snarky.”

Liam felt a smirk of his own grace his lips. “Actually, Leeroy isn’t all that snarky. He prefers to baffle people with his abundance of enthusiasm and obliviousness to insults until people get mad. I think the snarkiness was directly related to  _ you. _ ”

Zayn gave a short laugh, his arms dropping back to his sides and his gaze sliding briefly to the floor. It was a few moments before either of them spoke again, and it was Zayn who broke the silence.

“Are you, uhm. Will you come to some of my shows?” Zayn asked, looking up at Liam through his lashes. Liam just fucking  _ melted _ —his heart skipping a beat and a fond smile stealing over his lips.

“How about I make you a deal, yeah?” Liam asked, brushing the itchy white fringe off his forehead.

Zayn cocked his head, silently asking Liam to continue.

“If you remember your routine for this first show, I’ll go to every damn show on this tour.”

Zayn’s eyes widened in disbelief and hope. “Yeah?” He breathed.

Liam nodded, stepping forward and into Zayn’s space. “Absolutely.” Though Liam was actually lying. Even if Zayn messed up his routine, Liam knew he’d still go to every show. Without any conscious decision on Liam’s part, Zayn had managed to wiggle his way into Liam’s heart. He wasn’t in love, not yet, but he was well on his way.

Zayn grinned up at Liam, throwing his arms around Liam’s neck and crashing their lips together in a blistering kiss.

Yeah, definitely on his way.


End file.
